Go home little boy
by halabala33
Summary: A new West Ham player unexpectedly makes friends with a charming yet dangerous hooligan.
1. Chapter 1

Jose Maria was kinda glad that he's leaving this town. Leaving his newly ex-wife behind. He checked like for the millionth time, if he has everything needed for his journey to England.

„C'mon guys. Help me out here. I don't want to find out that I left my toothbrush at home after spending 2 hours being sick in a plane."

„You know, you can buy one in England. English people clean their teeth too, muchacho." A tall annoying blond English guy with terrible Spanish laughed at his own joke and showed the other two his pearly whites.

The other guy, dark haired Spaniard looked slightly embarrassed for his friend and decided to move on and help Jose Maria.

"Alright. Do you have a passport?"

"Check."

"The plane ticket?"

"Check."

"So… you're good to go."

Jose Maria sat sadly on a sofa.

"I'm not sure if I am doing the right thing. Leaving my kids here. Moving to another country. What if I won't get along with the coach? And that team? They are like, what, 18th in the Premier league. That team is a joke!"

"So make it a good joke." Raul patted his friend on a back "It's gonna be alright, pal. Don't worry. Right, David?"

David stopped looking at himself in the mirror and nodded.

"Yeah. London is a helluva city."

As usually icy-glaring David gave him a bear hug, Jose Maria couldn't help it and let a single tear escape his eye. He felt like leaving a family behind. Well, he was, indeed.

As he pulled away from David and nodded for the last time towards Raul, he kept reminding himself that it's the right thing he's doing. And without one last glance back he walked through the gate and into a completely different world.

"José María Gutigoméz?"

Guti looked up to find a small fat man staring back at him.

"Yeah?"

"Welcome to London. I'll escort you to the hotel. You want some rest, I s'ppose. You'll meet your employer tomorrow. 'Till then I'm your guardian angel." Roughly laughed the man and stretched his right hand towards José.

_OMG. Damn Englishmen._

"So, I can show you the stadium, if you want. We're really driving nearby. But you don't have to, of course. So, do you?" A little fatty looked to his back mirror with eyes filled with hope.

Jose Maria was bored, tired and deprived from the foggy weather but he didn't want to let the little man down.

"Yeah, sure. Why not?"

The small fat man parked the car in front of the stadium. They got off the car and Jose Maria looked up to see the big blue letters near the roof. West Ham. i Well. I'd rather be here than in Philadelphia. /i He got back to the car and put his frozen hands into the pockets of his jacket.

"So, this is what you call summer, huh?"

Small fat man gave him a cold look. _OMG. Damn Spaniards_.

In the morning the very next day Jose Maria woke up early. He called the small fat guy, who came to the hotel immediately and drove him to his new employer. Jose Maria had a little chat with his new boss, they took some pictures with the new jersey with number 14 and he was told that he'll join the training programme the day after tomorrow. After all these formalities he was sent to the cafeteria to have some breakfast. He was a calm guy, afraid of anything, but he found his hands shaking when he saw what he got served.

"¿Cuál el infierno es ése?" He asked in disgust, not really expecting an answer, since he was eating alone.

"Confiarme en, compañero. No deseas saber." A cheery voice answered.

Jose Maria looked up and saw a young man, probably a Mexican, sitting at the next table.

"Hi. My name is Santiago Munez. I'm from Los Angeles."

"Hey. I'm Jose María Gutigoméz, but they call me just Guti."

„Hi Guti!" Said the youngster happily. Jose Maria started to wonder, if the boy is on some drugs or something.

_Jesus. This must be the lamest conversation I've ever had. _

He stood up and said goodbye to the young Mexican. He wasn't really that hungry, after all. He got to the street and slowly walked across the empty street. He saw some graffiti decorations on the wall. Especially the dark one caught his attention. The painting really expressed his feelings. It started to rain. He covered his blond hair with a hood and ran for a shelter. He reached a pub at a corner of a street. He looked around the street, feeling little uncomfortable with suddenly being a foreigner, after 30 years living in the same street._Well, fuck it. _

He entered the pub, which was quite empty at this daytime, only a few lads were hanging at the bar and playing pool.

"Can I 'elp you, son?" A tall, dark haired man behind the bar asked him.

"Um, yeah, a beer would be good." He answered and sit on a bar chair. The guy next to him was holding the newspaper and showing a title picture to his friend, a tall, rather skinny blond guy wearing an adidas t-shirt.

"What da fuck. How can they make up a story from one bloody picture? Know what I mean, Petey?"

"Yeah, mate. I feel ya. Usama is dead anyway, ain't 'e." Pete took a sip of his beer and laughed. "I thought yew read only The _Curran' Bun_ anyway."

Jose Maria just sat there and didn't really care about the other customers, until he heard them mention "the Bubbles". He looked up at the nearest guy.

"…da moron didn't even know da song. He just stood there, actin' oh-so-rough.." The guy laughed and Guti observed the others. They were all well-built, young and with a beer in the hand.

He spoke up to the man sitting next to him. "Erm, excuse me, did you mention "the Bubbles"?"

Brow haired man narrowed his eyes on him. " Yeah. You 'ave some problem wiv that? Millwall, 'uh? You've discomdodulated da pubs, mate?"

Guti shifted on the seat. All of sudden they seemed to be in rage. "No, you've misunderstood me. I asked 'cause I've heard about that song, but don't know the words and all. Just thought I'd ask whether it's truth about it being sung on every match played by the West Ham. You know, I'm a new player there, and don't want to appear on the pitch with absolutely no information and…" his blabbing was stopped by the tallest man looking as the leader of their group.

He came closer and put a hand on his shoulders. " You're kiddin' me, mate, right? You wan' ter get kicked out, right, mate? You know, da Millwall fans ain't exactly on a safe ground 'ere.."

Jose Maria looked confused. Poor guy didn't even know how he got in this situation.

"Nah, i mate /i , I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE IN THE HELL MILLWALL IS. IF YOU GOT A PROBLEM, THEN IT´S YOUR FUCKIN´ PROBLEM. NOT MINE." He saw that one thuggish guy came dangerously close to him, so he calmed his voice.

"Listen. I just came here to have a beer or two, to relax a little after changing a climate and maybe, just maybe make some friends in the new country. Apparently I messed up. I'm sorry. I thought that you are some West Ham fans. I thought it would be nice to get to know my new club and his fans a little bit better but I was wrong and I'm sorry. Please, don't kick the shit out of me. I'm too pretty to fight." He snickered as he saw that rage pulsing in tall blond's eyes is already gone.

"So yew really play fer Migh'y Hammers, innit. Awright geeezzaa! What is ya name, mate?"

"My name? Jose Maria Gutigoméz."

Couple of guys started to laugh and the tension that filled the room minutes ago was gone for good.

"For _bombay duck_ sake anuvver Mexican?" Cried out the thuggish guy and the blond started to laugh.

„Awright Josie. I'm Pete. This is my mate Bovver, that's Dave and Swill."

„Oi mate."

Jose Maria shook his hand with the guys a he could force himself not to smile while taking another sip. _Looks like I will make some friends tonight. _


	2. Chapter 2

The sun was shining brightly on the pitch. The training was almost over, so the man on the rostrum briskly stood up and walked towards the players.

Guti was stretching his legs as an unknown man came closer.

"Are you Jose Maria?"

Jose furrowed his brows.

"Yeah, that's me. And you are..."

"That's not important," said the man and shoved his hands in the pockets. Guti definitely disliked this man.

"So, wassup?" asked Guti after a minute of nervous silence.

"Do you know Pete Dunham?" suddenly asked the man abruptly.

"Who?" Guti answered with a question, suspiciously.

The man repeated his question. Jose Maria thought for a moment and then shrugged.

"No, mate. I don't know him."

The man looked like he didn't really believe but let it be and left the pitch. _What the hell was that all about?_

Later that evening came Jose to the pub and sat down beside Dave on the stool in the bar.

"Hi, muchacho."

Dave looked up from the newspaper and grinned.

"Hello, mate. Had a bee's knees day?"

Guti looked confused, but obviously decided not to ask. He had some more important stuff on his mind.

"Look, Dave, I've had some quite strange encounter today."

Dave shifted on his seat and leaned curiously forward.

"Yeah? Spill it."

"You know, there was this man on my football practise. He's middle height, black coat, red hair. He came to me and asked whether I know Pete Dunham."

Dave gasped.

"What did yew tell 'im?"

"Of course that I don't. I don't want to get involved in Pete's business. What's between them, stays between them."

Dave looked relieved.

"Geez man, you've done da right thing. You _really_ don't wan' ter get involved."

"Mate, you don't have to tell me twice. That guy wasn't like nice or something."

Jose Maria looked up and saw Terry the Bartender standing behind the bar.

"Hey, man. Howdy?"

"Not all bad, mate, I 'ave to say. You wan' a beer?"

"Do you have a non-alcoholic one? Oh, in that case, I'll have a cup of green tea, thank you very much."

"I'm sorry mate, but we 'ave only black tea wiv milk."

"Okay, I'll have one then. Thanks."

Jose turned back to Dave.

"Give me a Sport. Thank you."

Dave handed him a part of his newspaper and resumed reading. Tom gave him a cup of tea and Guti sipped it. _Oh my, it's great!_

"So, what do you usually do on Tuesday afternoon? Accept drinking beer?"

"I fly."

"Like, you're like on drugs?"

"No, mate. On airoplane." Dave rolled his eyes. Suddenly the door opened and someone yelled: "Get down!"

Someone's hand pulled Jose Maria to the ground and he heard gunshots. Someone was screaming in agony and then the door slammed closed and a horrific silence ended the scene. He heard someone talking quickly.

"Call an ambulance. 'urry up!"

Guti stood up and searched the pub. The attacker was no longer there. Instead, a body was lying on the floor 5 meters from him and Dave was trying to prevent the total dry out. Jose Maria slowly got closer and found out that it was the red-haired man he saw earlier that day. Jose Maria sensed trouble. The red head was obviously dead.

Then the door opened again and Pete walked in.

"Ay, ay!" He saw Dave sitting next to the dead guy. "What the fuck 'appened in 'ere?"

"Dunno. Already called the police. I guess got something to do wiv the football betting or something. Blimey! I don't know. Damn. My shirt is dirty."

Dave looked up at Pete to find him staring down at the dead body.

"Pete? Yew alright, mate?"

Pete shook his head and tried to speak, but he was not able to bring his voice to come out of his throat. He coughed and tried once again.

"Dave, I 'ave ter go. I'll call yew as soon as possible. Okay? Can yew 'andle dis an' police?"

"Sure, Pete. We'll talk later?" he lifted an eyebrow questioningly.

Pete nodded. "We'll talk later. I 'ave ter go. Bye."

Jose Maria sensed that something bad is happening. He glanced at Dave, now covered in blood and decided to follow Pete, who seemed to be little bit more aware of situation then he admitted. Jose Maria waved at Dave, letting him know that he's leaving and left. He saw Pete, crossing the street few yards away.

"Oi, Pete!" he screamed and followed him quickly. "What's up?"

Pete looked at him in disbelief.

"What do yew want 'ere? Go back to the Abbey, or 'ome, or whatever."

"Pete, look at me. I know something's up. I want to help you. What's goin' on?"

Pete stopped in his tracks and punched a wall next to him. His fist was bleeding. Guti stepped back in pure shock and horror.

A moment it looked like Pete is trying to calm himself down, but then he turned on his heel and started do walk away. Again.

Jose Maria couldn't help himself but shout at him: "Just remember, when you need a help, you can call my number."

He was watching hooligans' back after it disappeared in the distance. He let a heavy sigh escape his mouth and headed home. There wasn't anything other he could do, after all.

"All ma girls stand in the circle and clap yo hands, this is for you. Ups and downs, highs and lows and no matter what, you bring me through. My boyfriend doesn't answer on a telephone." Suddenly the phone rang.

"Well, isn't it ironic," said Jose Maria to himself, stopped singing, put off his dishwashing gloves and answer the phone.

"What up?"

"Oi, Josie. It's Pete. Listen, mate. You still wanna 'elp?"


	3. Chapter 3

"Yeah. Sure. What's up?" Jose Maria tried to sound casual but his voice trembled when he the thought of going way too far in order to make friends crossed his mind.

"You're at 'ome? Can I meet you there? In 20 minutes? Thanks Josie."

Jose Maria gave Pete the address of his apartment, switched the Ashlee Simpson CD with some classical music and got back to washing dishes. He was almost done when the door bell rang, followed with not so patient knock on the door. With a deep sigh Jose Maria looked at the rubber gloves he was wearing and the few dirty plates that he had to finish cleaning.

"Don't worry. I'll clean you up in now time. I promise." He cracked a smile. "Maybe it's time to do desperate thing to gain someone's friendly affection after all", he thought, "Hombre, you're talking to inanimate objects."

He opened the door and Pete immediately stepped inside the flat.

"That's rude," Jose thought.

"What is that? Fucking Beethoven? I'm really not in the mood for some damn Beethoven." Pete stormed into the living room and sat down on the comfortable sofa frustrated. Jose Maria stood in the hall quite unimpressed with his guest's attitude.

"Good. It's Mozart you moron." he mumbled and slammed the door shut. When he got the living room, Pete jumped from the sofa.

"Listen, mate, I'm in serious barney."

"I figured. What's going on here? You can tell me. I'm your friend." He said the last sentence with a little hope that Pete will confirm that, but he just cast a slightly angry glance at him.

"I don't have time for talking. I need money."

Jose Maria's heart sank. _He does not want to talk to you. He just wants your money. He is not your friend._ He gulped.

"What do you need money for?"

"To pay some people up." Pete sighed. He really did not have time for this. Why couldn't Josie understand that.

"What people?"

"Just some people."

"How much?"

"Eight hundred grand."

"How much is that?"

"How much? What?" Pete rolled his eyes. "Thousand. It's eight hundred thousand."

Jose Maria did the quick math in his head. "That's a lot of money."

"It's a fucking shitload of money. Now will you help me, like you so grandly offered or not?"

"What do you…" Jose Maria hesitated but then decided to try it once again. "What do you need that money for?"

Pete shook his head. "Fucking unbelievable."

"You're fucking unbelievable." Jose Maria felt that all his suppressed feelings of loneliness and fear of not fitting in suddenly rose up to the surface. He staggered. "Friends do that kind of favors. And we are friends. Right?" He looked into hooligans eyes to assure that he knows that right now he is buying his friendship.

Pete shushed the inner voice telling him to put that desperate Spaniard down, but he was in a desperate position himself. He put a huge fake smile on.

"Right. You know what they say. Friend in need…"

He watched Jose Maria's face lit up with joy and begged all the saints for not regretting this in the very near future. Jose Marie didn't know what _they_ say. But he didn't care for _them_. He didn't have to now. He just gained himself a true friend. He sighed happily with glee. For Pete it was a signal to go. He really didn't want to stay and spend the evening making matching BFF bracelets. He grabbed the check and left with a hurried goodbye.

Out in the streets Pete took his phone form his pocket and dialed Dave's number. He picked up immediately.

"You ready to fly?"

"Take me to the moon and back," Pete replied coolly and hung up.

Back in the bar Dave took a victorious sip of club soda he was drinking on this lazy Monday afternoon and put his pilot hat on. He looked around and waved Terry goodbye and walked out the door. Dave slowly pulled the car over at the airport parking lot. He looked into the spring-back mirror and then on his watch. He still got time. He turned the volume on his car radio up and hummed the neat melody.

"Ooooh just to be with you is having the best daaaaay…" Dave was giving it all he got when a knock on the car window made him jumped. He rolled the window down embarrassed.

"You okay, love?" Pete asked with a cheeky grin. Dave nodded and got out of the car. When he turned around after locking the car he saw that Pete is already few meters ahead.

"Come on, Davie, it's showtime!" He yelled at him laughing.

"Everything went according the plan?"

"You mean my diabolical master plan? Of course it did."

"And in the bank?"

"Everything's set."

"Everything?"

"Where is this coming from? Mate, I thought of every alternative, every possible scenario. Stop worrying and enjoy the ride."

"Alright, Mr. Scofield. But I'd hate to see that smug grin on your face wipe out. It suits you so well." Dave chuckled as Pete gave him the finger and pushed the door that led them to the runway.

A small business jet was already waiting for them. They got on the board. Shannon was already seated next to the window with little Ben sleeping peacefully in the seat across the aisle. When she saw them she smiled broadly.

"So?" She asked greeting Dave with a nod and Pete with a hug.

"What do you mean?" Pete teased her.

"How did it go?"

"What's with all this questioning? Does anybody have a little faith in me and my skills?" Pete faked outraged but laughed when he saw Dave's grin.

"Of course I have faith in you, baby." Shannon kissed him gently and waited for his final answer.

"Well, good for you because it worked. We're leaving." He was about to kiss her back when he was interrupted by Dave.

"Alright folks, please get back to your seats and fasten your seatbelts. Please notice this is a non-smoking flight from London-Heathrow to Paris-CDG at 1700. Expected time of arrival is 1815. Please feel welcomed to use our new entertaining system brought to you by…"

"Shut up, man. We're all seated. Let's go!"

"Okay then." Dave smiled and after a little while the small jet took off.

"So we fly into the sunset after all." Pete smiled at Shannon and squeezed her hand gently.

"Pete?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

"I love you too."

The plane started shaking.

Pete smiled at Shannon. "Just a mild turbulence," he said his last words.

The next day Jose Maria glanced at the newspaper cover while eating his breakfast cornflakes with low fat milk.

Plane crashed near London. A bird caused the crash of a small business jet with 4 people aboard. The pilot tried to execute emergency landing on the nearby field, but the plane exploded. Nobody survived.


End file.
